Backstory
by princess addy
Summary: Rick got his tattoo in a Cairo orphange. How did he get there? How does being in an orphanage lead to being tattooed? My first multi-chapter fic. Pretty please read and review.
1. Prologue

What was Rick, an American, end up in a Cairo orphanage, the French Foreign Legion and then in a Cairo prison? What happened?

Twelve-year-old Richard Liam O'Connell was furious_. 'Wait here' Grandpa says_, he thought. '_Wait here and I will be back for you soon'. We're past soon now, Gramps. _Francis O'Connell had been gone over a week. After three days, Rick had come to the conclusion that, like his parents, his grandfather was not coming back anytime in the near future. Most boys his age might be frightened being completely alone in a foreign country, but right now, Rick was just plain angry.


	2. Alone

When their son was just a toddler, James and Elizabeth O'Connell had left him in the care of his paternal grandfather, Francis, and headed overseas. They had only planned to be gone for a year, but one year became two and two, three. Aside from the occasional letter and the two pictures that his grandfather had shown him, Richard knew very little about his parents. After all at twelve years old Rick had not seen his parents face to face in roughly nine years.

Over a year ago Rick and Francis had received a letter addressed to "Dad and dear little Richie". Rick gave a sarcastic snort at the memory. He had never been called Richie as far as he could remember; his parents didn't even know enough to call him 'Rick'. _Besides,_ Rick thought, _my parents wouldn't recognize their 'dear little Richie' if I were to walk up and punch my father in the face_. Neither Rick nor Francis had heard from James or Elizabeth since that letter arrived. Not that it really mattered anymore as Rick had given up on his parents years ago when it became clear that they were too busy to have a relationship with their only child.

As far as Rick was concerned Grandpa Francis was his family, while "James and Lizzie" (which is how he thought of his parents as that is what his grandfather called them) were just two people to whom he happened to be related. James and Lizzie could be dead and it would have little effect on their son, since he did not know them personally. His grandfather's disappearance was far more personal than his parents' distance. Rick loved his grandfather as the only parent he could remember. Grandpa Francis (or just Grandpa or even Gramps) had been there for him. Grandpa had taken him to school, taught him to how tie his shoes and showed him how to fish.

Francis O'Connell had brought his grandson along to Egypt when he went to see an old friend working at one of the universities. Now Francis had vanished, much like Rick's parents, and this time Rick was on his own.

This was how Richard Liam O'Connell, a twelve-year-old American boy, found himself unsupervised and uncared for in Cairo. He carried a few things with him in a rucksack. When his grandfather hadn't returned after five days, Rick had taken the money his belongings and the money his grandfather had given him to get by on for a few days. Anything that his grandfather had left behind that Rick didn't need, he took to trade or sell in the market. Rick spent a lot of time in the markets of Cairo in the days following his grandfather's vanishing act, bargaining for food and selling small items that he or his grandfather had brought on this trip which were not essential.

Rick was in the market negotiating a price for his grandfather's watch when the local authorities found him. He had been on his own for roughly two weeks when two local police officers approached him. The taller of the two officers grabbed Rick's shoulder. "You speak English and your skin is too pale for an Egyptian," the officer stated. "I believe you to be either English or American. Whichever you are, what are you doing here alone?"

"Selling this," Rick said cheekily, holding up the watch.

"And where did you get that?" the second officer questioned.

"You mean: did I steal it?" Rick retorted. "And no, I didn't." Rick glared at the officer, daring him to suggest otherwise.

"Regardless," the taller officer said, "a boy like you should not be out here alone. You should come with us until we know where you belong." The officer kept a grip on Rick's shoulder until the boy had gathered his belongings and then led him away.


	3. American

_Note: This is my first multi-chapter story. Ideas, feedback and input will all be greatly appreciated, even if they are not all used. _

The two officers took Rick to a nearby police headquarters and had him wait in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair which was placed at a plain metal table bearing dents and scratches indicating many years of use. The tall officer placed a tin cup half filled with lukewarm water in front of Rick and told him to drink. His partner picked up Rick's rucksack and emptied the contents onto the table causing Rick to growl and glare at him in protest. The shorter officer picked up Rick's papers from the items spread across the table. After a quick look at the papers he turned to his partner. "American," he said showing the other man the paper's in his hand. The taller man nodded in response and the officer holding Rick's papers turned to leave the room.

"We will send for someone from your embassy to aide us in deciding what to do," the tall officer told Rick. "Wait here until he arrives." Then the officer followed his partner out of the room.

_Great,_ Rick thought. _Alone again. Even better, I get to wait while they 'decide what to do with me', like a stray dog._


	4. Homeless

Rick wasn't sure how long he sat waiting for the representative from the American Embassy to arrive. Finally, the door opened and the two Egyptian officers from earlier entered along with two other men whom Rick had not seen previously. One of the men had the darker coloring that was common among the locals; Rick guessed that he was another Egyptian official of some sort. The other man was clearly not from the area as he had light hair and not even a hint of a tan on his white skin.

The pale man approached Rick with and extended his hand. "I'm Andrew Jones from the United States Embassy here in Cairo. You must be the boy I'm here to see," he said smiling. Rick nodded. "This is the local police captain," Mr. Jones said indicating the other new man, "We thought it would be best if he were involved also."

"Don't care," Rick replied.

"Okay then." Mr. Jones said. "We have your passport and papers, but for clarification's sake, could you please tell us your full, legal name?"

"Richard Liam O'Connell."

"And where are your parents, Richard?" Mr. Jones asked.

"How the hell should I know?" Rick answered. "I haven't seen them since I was three years old. I haven't even gotten a single, lousy letter in over a year!"

"In that case, who is your guardian?" Jones asked.

"My grandfather, his name is Francis O'Connell. Before you ask, I don't know where he is either. Haven't seen him since he left our rooms two weeks ago and told me to wait for him."

"Do you know of any other relatives?" Jones asked.

"No. Grandpa is the only family I ever remember meeting." Rick told him, "One of my parent's letters might have mentioned a great-aunt, but I think she's dead or something."

"Well you have to go somewhere." Mr. Jones stated. "The embassy will work on tracking down any relatives. Until we find someone, you will be placed in a local children's home under the embassy's protection."

"You mean I'm being sent to an orphanage." Rick responded bluntly.

"Well. Yes." Jones said looking surprised. "The captain here will take you there as soon as we are done here. I would like to take some of that cash you're carrying back to the embassy for safekeeping." Rick didn't like that idea, but he knew that his money would not be safe at the orphanage, so he nodded. Jones asked if Rick had any questions. Rick asked what would happen to the house and his and Francis's things back in the United States. Mr. Jones promised to look into it and get back to him. "If you need anything else, contact the embassy," Mr. Jones instructed and he left.

The police captain handed Rick his papers. "Get your things," he told Rick. "It is time to go to your orphanage."


	5. Arrival

The building to which the police captain took Rick was built of grey brick. Walls of the same material enclosed a dirt yard. The ground floor was partially open to the yard so that the walls and yard effectively became a part of the building. The walls were not terribly high, nor would they be considered low. They were just tall enough to give an impression of security and privacy to the property. There were two entrances, one a large, simple gate to the yard, and the other a wooden door to the house itself. A plaque next to the gate displayed the words "Cairo City Home for Children" in English and what appeared to Rick to be the same message in at least three other languages.

"This will be a good place for you. They speak English here. Not all orphanages in the city are run by people who know your language," the captain told Rick. "You are fortunate."

"Yeah," Rick mumbled, "I must be really, damn lucky."

The captain knocked on the door which was soon opened by a serious looking man of middle age. The man and the police captain conversed for a moment in Arabic. Rick did not know the language but understood enough to figure out that the police captain was explaining that his name was Richard and why he was here. When he was done relaying this information, the captain gave his parting wishes to the man in the door and nodded to Rick as he left.

When the captain was gone the man turned to Rick. "Hello, Richard. I am Hafiz, one of the staff members here. I will show you around and introduce you to some of the others." Hafiz led Rick through the building. He showed Rick the dining hall and the classrooms where some of the children had lessons. "The dormitories are upstairs," Hafiz told Rick. "The boys have rooms on the east side and the girl's rooms are on the west."

Next Hafiz took Rick to the courtyard where a young adolescent girl was helping a woman hang laundry. Hafiz put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "This is my wife: Sarah," he said. "And this," he said indicating the girl, "is Shula. She is the oldest of the girls here and has lived here most of her life."

"I'm Rick O'Connell," Rick introduced himself.

"O'Connell?" Shula repeated. Rick nodded in confirmation. "I do not have a family name," Shula said sadly. "I am called Shula because I could not tell them my name when I was brought to the orphanage."

"Unfortunately, we sometimes do not know the names of the smaller children when they arrive." Sarah told Rick. She gave a small, sad smile and returned to her laundry.

Hafiz excused himself from the group saying he had things to attend to and told Rick to look around for himself. Rick wandered back inside to look around. He was going down a hallway not really registering his surrounding when he hit something firm but not hard. He looked up to see the face of a man. The man was younger than Hafiz but there was something about him that seemed ancient and powerful to Rick. He had dark hair that fell to his shoulders and he wore a robe like the ones worn by many other people in the desert. Some how Rick knew that there was something different about this man. Maybe it was the markings on his skin that Rick could see hints of at the edges of his robe; one on his left shoulder and another on the back of his right hand. "Who are you?" Rick asked, not meaning to be rude.

"I do not frighten you?" the man asked. Rick shook his head. The man smiled. "Most of the new children find me intimating at first, many adults as well. You are different. You may call me Nianai."

**To my readers:**

**I know you are out there. **** Please review. I have never written a multi-chapter story before, so please help me by letting me know how I'm doing.**

**Any ideas and feedback would be greatly appreciated.**

**BTW: **Shula means "flame". She is called that because she was orphaned in a fire.

See if you can guess how Nianai fits into the story. If you can tell me Nianai's role in the story and why he goes by Nianai, you can pick a name to be written into the story.


	6. Life and a Meeting

[To my readers: I know you're out there. This story is getting traffic from around the world, which I find very exciting. So to all you out there: Greetings from Canada! Please feel free to suggest ideas, names and scenarios. I need your help to keep my momentum going.]

Rick soon discovered that the orphanage had far too many children for its small staff. Even though the adults were there, it often was up to the children to take care of each other and themselves. Some of the children were given lessons by Nianai and Hafiz. Benjamin, who was the oldest of the children at 16, did lessons with the smaller children, as did Shula and Rick. Since the orphanage had to operate with very little money and almost no staff, the children older than five were pretty much left to themselves apart from meals, lessons and chores.

Rick heard all sorts of stories about his new companions and how they had come to live there. Some of the children had been foundlings, children discovered with no way of knowing whether they had any relatives, let alone finding them. Tariq had grown up on the streets, before he had knocked on the door of the orphanage looking for shelter for his small friend, Miriam. Some were true orphans. The twins, Ata and Mosi, and their baby sister, Kissa, came to the orphanage when their parents died from a fever. Some of the other children told Rick that the twins and Kissa were lucky, because they still had real family.

While most of the children were from Egyptian or Arabic backgrounds, they all spoke English. Sarah and Hafiz considered fluency in English to be essential for their lives in the city. Other languages were spoken among the residents of the orphanage. Most everyone spoke the Egyptian dialect of Arabic. Some of the children knew other languages, mostly those who had been school-aged when they were separated from their families. The exception to this rule was little Miriam. Miriam's age was estimated at three-years upon her arrival. Miriam spoke Hebrew and Arabic when she was brought to the door by Tariq (who at the time was an eight-year-old street kid). Tariq only knew Arabic and communicated with his small friend in that language. Luckily for Miriam, the orphanage was also home to a Jewish girl called Tali. It was Tali who helped Miriam maintain her knowledge of the Hebrew language. Without another Hebrew speaker, Miriam would surely have forgotten the language her parents had taught her like the other little ones who had once spoken uncommon languages and dialects.

Daily life in the orphanage followed a simple routine. Every night Rick went to bed in the room he shared with seven other boys around his age. Every morning at six they woke up. At half past six they were given their first meal, which they ate while carefully guarding their food from each other's sneaky fingers. At half past seven, lessons began for those who had them. A lucky few were able to attend school outside the orphanage; those who didn't took lessons from the staff. At noon, each child was given a small piece of bread and if they were old enough they were allowed out into the city for the afternoon if they wished. Dinner was served every evening at 6:30. On Tuesdays and Fridays, the boys bathed after dinner. The girls took their baths on Monday and Thursday. The children over aged thirteen were usually responsible for supervising the younglings (the children under 5) in their baths. Everyone was in their rooms by nine o'clock every night and expected to stay there until morning. On weekends there were no classes, so the older children were usually free to come and go as they pleased.

The orphans were not by any means starving, but there was a limited amount of money to provide for all of them. This meant that meals in the orphanage were often very small. As a result, many of the children were in the habit of searching out and hoarding extra food. The orphanage also kept a small vegetable garden, from which some of the children had been known to raid at night when they were supposed to be in bed. Some of the children were also known to steal from market stalls and pick pockets while in the city. For Rick this wasn't necessary.

Rick was lucky enough to have some money of his own left from what he had taken from the rooms he had shared with his grandfather and from the items he had sold after his grandfather's disappearance. The man from the embassy had taken most of it for safe keeping, but the small amount that Rick had kept was enough for him to get himself a few things in the market. It was a lot more than the others in the orphanage had. Rick kept his money on his person at all times. Any personal belonging had to be carefully guarded. Personal belonging were quickly stolen if left unattended and most everything in the orphanage was communal property. Many items of clothing were even shared amongst the children. Rick kept anything he wanted to keep in his rucksack which stayed with him at all times. It didn't take Rick long to get in the habit of sleeping with his rucksack at night so nobody could steal anything from it.

By the middle of his third week, Rick had become accustomed to life in the orphanage. Within a few months, he had "gone native". He ran barefoot with the other orphans through the streets of Cairo. Going barefoot in Egypt's dry, hot climate is not the wisest thing to do, but there just wasn't enough money available to provide shoes to fit everyone. The orphanage rarely got rid of shoes or clothes. Instead clothes and shoes were passed on to a younger set of children when outgrown, until utterly unusable. Most of the garments worn by the orphans were old and slightly worn although clean and well maintained. This afternoon, Rick was chasing another boy down the street. Both were shoeless, wearing frayed trousers and slightly loose shirts. "Gotcha, Sarid!" Rick yelled tackling his friend. The boys wrestled for a few moments, Rick soon gaining the upper hand.

"Let me up, Bomani!" Sarid laughed, addressing Rick by the nickname he had earned in the orphanage. Rick laughed and got off his friend. The two boys brushed the dust off of their clothes and scampered off towards the market. Running through the market Rick dodged an Englishman walking with a boy who appeared to be about Rick's own age give or take a year or so who appeared to be the man's son. The man seemed fascinated and excited by the sights. The boy, on the other hand, had a pout on his face and was whining to his father about the heat, the smell, the crowds and anything else he about which he could possibly complain. A young woman with more Arabic features joined the pair kissing the man on the cheek and scolding the boy.

"Jay," she said. "Be quiet and behave yourself, or you'll be spending next summer in London with the nanny while the rest of us go on vacation without you!" The boy gulped and nodded, but did not say a single word to the woman in reply. Rick laughed silently at the scene; the look on the boy's face was hilarious. Just then the boy, Jay as the woman had called him, caught sight of Rick.

"It's not that funny!" he called sulkily.

Rick grinned. _You only say that because you can't see your face_, he thought. "It's a little funny," he said approaching the family. Rick took a good look at them. He noticed the grey schoolboy's suit that Jay wore was free of dust and the boy's shoes shiny. _He hasn't been in Egypt very long then_, Rick decided. "Not used to the desert yet, are you?" he said, phrasing it as a question even though it was more of an observation.

"You might say that," the English boy replied. "Who are you exactly? And where did you come from?" he asked.

"Oh. I'm called Bomani. I'm just around…" Rick said making a vague gesture at the city around them.

At this the woman turned to Rick. "Bomani?" she exclaimed, her face and voice expressing her curiosity. "That is an Egyptian name, but you do not look Egyptian. Nor do you speak with an Egyptian accent." She turned to her husband. "When the boy speaks his accent is American, yes?" Her husband nodded, indicating that he too thought Rick sounded American. "Yet you introduce yourself as Bomani," she mused. "How very strange."

Rick grinned. "I said I was called Bomani," Rick replied. "I never said that it was my name." The second sentence was spoken in Arabic. Shock showed on the faces of the couple for a moment. Then the man smiled.

"In Ancient Egypt, words were thought to have great power; names, even more so. To know a person's name was to have power over them," the Englishman said. "You know this country better than you realize, young warrior. I think there is more to you than meets the eye." Rick smiled at the man and ran off down the street.

[Note: "Bomani" is an Egyptian name meaning "warrior".]

[If you review and are the first to correctly identify the family, you can pick one name to be written into the story. Same goes for telling me the reason for the choice of the name Nianai. I do not promise the names you chose will be in the next chapter, but they will appear in the story.]


	7. Warrior Recognized

[This story is more popular than I'd expected. Unfortunately it's also harder to write than I had expected. Please bear with me, folks.]

Diana Harper was greeted with the sound of giggles when she passed through the gate to the children's home. The young English girl carried a large, soft bundle wrapped in a large sheet of white fabric. The visitor was spotted quickly. Her clean, well ordered clothing stood out amongst the worn, patched garments of the home's residents. Within moments of Diana's arrival, Sarah, who had been alerted by Shula, bustled into the courtyard to greet their guest.

"Miss Harper," the woman exclaimed, "how good it is to see you. How is the colonel?"

Diana smiled. "My father is well, Matron. Thank you for asking." Diana's father, Colonel Andrew Harper, was on staff at the British embassy in Cairo. Both the colonel and his young daughter were frequent visitors to the orphanage, often delivering items donated by organizations in Great Britain.

"The children were simply thrilled with your latest gifts," Sarah was telling her guest. "It was such a blessing." Last month, the embassy had delivered several crates of donations. Among other things, those crates had supplied several pairs of shoes. For the first time in a long while, each of the older children had a pair of shoes to wear to school.

"I'm so glad to hear it," Diana responded. "I actually came by to bring you some clothing. I have written about this place in my letters to aunt back home. She's shipped us all my cousins' old things." Diana offered the bundle she carried to the kind Arab matron.

"We thank you for your kindness, Miss Harper," Sarah said accepting the bundle. The Arab woman turned to call towards the open air hallway off the courtyard. "Shula!"

The orphan girl's head appeared around a doorway. Sarah beckoned the girl over. _"Take these to the storeroom,"_ she instructed the girl in Arabic with a smile.

Shula answered in the same language and smiled back. Before running off with the bundle, Shula turned to their benefactor. "Thank you, Miss Diana," she said.

Shula scampered off to deliver the new clothes to the storeroom. Sarah explained that she had to finish preparing supper and encouraged Diana to visit with the children, before excusing herself to get back to work.

Diana had planned from the beginning to spend some time visiting with the resident children. She rarely dropped by the orphanage without spending some time with the children. On her last visit with her father, she had brought along a length of string and spent the afternoon teaching nine-year-old Tali and 8-year-old Kissa the patterns of cat's cradle. Today, she had several pieces of candy in her pocket which she planned to give the children.

Diana was crossing the courtyard when she was cut off by a bright, red rubber ball, followed quickly by little Miriam who chased after it in a blur of dark flying curls. The ball rolled through the open gate bouncing into the street.

The little girl ran into the street in pursuit of her favourite toy, running right into the path of a loyal merchant and startling the donkey pulling his cart. The donkey and cart jolted, the load of fruit flew and rolled in all directions. Several passersby found themselves splattered with the pulp of exploding fruit. One of these passersby, a wealthy businessman whose new European-style suit was now speckled with colourful blobs of fruity pulp, and the owner of the cart started towards the little girl. The business man was growling and shouting, while the cart-owner shook his fist. A large, tanned hand shot out to grab Miriam by the shoulder. The cart owner held roughly the tiny, shocked child as he ranted about the damage he said she had caused.

Diana ran forward, hoping to help the child. The little girl had not meant to cause such a mess; she had merely wanted to retrieve the ball. When Diana attempted to explain this to the angry men, she was pushed away and instructed to stay out of their business. When the second man, the business man, grabbed Miriam and started to shake the child, Diana again tried to intervene. Before Diana reached the men and the little girl they were harassing there was a loud shout.

"Leave her alone!" a voice screamed. The owner of the voice, a very angry Rick O'Connell, came running out of the street. The sandy-haired boy snatched Miriam away from the angry men and shoved her behind him with whispered instructions for the little girl to stay back. Rick turned to the men. "Don't you touch her!" he growled.

The men laughed. "Are you going to stop us?" the cart owner asked.

"If I have to," the boy replied, glaring back.

The large cart-owner grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "Oh, really? You and what army?" he asked. The gathered crowd laughed. "Stand aside."

The cart-owner tried to hold Rick aside as he stepped towards the frightened form of Miriam, but Rick had other plans. He twisted in the man's grip and bit the man just above the wrist. The man screamed and lunged towards Rick. Rick rammed his head into the man's stomach, knocking the cart-owner into the business man behind him.

While the two men regained their balance, Rick turned and pushed Miriam towards Diana, who was standing on the side lines. "Get inside!" he shouted, pointing towards the open gates of the orphanage. For a split second neither girl moved. "Go!" Rick yelled. Diana grabbed Miriam by the arm and ran towards the safety of the orphanage compound.

Satisfied that the two girls were no longer in danger, Rick turned his attention back to the two men whose anger was now directed at him.

The business man, who had only been knocked a little of balance, was the first to recover his footing. He grabbed the boy by both forearms. Rick stomped on the business man's foot and then kicked him in the shin. The business man yelped and loosened his grip, providing Rick with a golden opportunity for another head-butt. The business man fell the ground and stayed down this time.

In the meantime, the cart-owner had gotten his breath back and was ready to make his move. The large man had drawn his arm back and was prepared to strike the boy when he was stopped by another hand taking hold of his wrist.

The cart-owner looked up to see a large man with dark skin, wearing dark robes. The man gestured towards Rick and then towards the walls of the orphanage. "I suggest that you leave these children alone," he spoke, his tone and scowl making it clear that it was _not_ a suggestion.

Eyes wide with fear, the cart-owner and his new sidekick nodded. The business man ran off, while the other hurried to fix the load in his cart and disappear also.

The mysterious man turned to Rick and gently laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Nianai," the boy said, acknowledging the man.

Nianai smiled. "You did well, young warrior," the man said. "You did not hesitate to help your friends."

"I just did what I had to," Rick argued.

Nianai smiled again. "That is why you are a protector of man; a true warrior." Nianai turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Rick shook his head, puzzled by what Nianai could have meant. Shrugging it off the boy returned to the orphanage.

[Please review. Additional notes on this chapter and the story below.]

Notes:

Cat's cradle is a game played with a loop of string. The string is looped around the player's fingers and passed back and forth to make a series of patterns.

I am completely ignoring the animated series, because I feel it contradicted the movies.

To help you keep track of the children in the orphanage:

Benjamin- boy – age 16 – eldest charge of the orphanage

Shula-girl- age 13- only survivor of house fire as a toddler

Richard "Rick" Liam O'Connell – age 12 – called Bomani

Mosi- boy – age 10 – elder of twins; brother to Ata and Kissa

Ata –boy – age 10 –younger of twins; brother of Mosi and Kissa

Tali –girl –age 9 –from Hebrew background; speaks Hebrew

Tariq –boy –age 9 –former street child; came to orphanage with Miriam

Kissa –girl –age 8 –Sister of twins (Mosi and Ata)

Miriam –girl –age 5 –Hebrew speaker; found by Tariq at age 3

Madu –boy –age 3 –Found on street


End file.
